


when one door closes, another opens

by mabiyusha



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), but i wanted to put into words my headcanons on how they met and so on, i'm sorry this is a trainwreck, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 19:21:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17813993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mabiyusha/pseuds/mabiyusha
Summary: After the revolution, Jericho is reborn as a base for all androids seeking help or shelter. Simon is having a hard time fulfilling his duties; on every step he's reminded of the fact that the person he loves chose another and isn't even aware of the way he feels. He makes his decision on the day Connor arrives with a newcomer, a freshly deviated RK model that no one had ever seen before.





	when one door closes, another opens

**Author's Note:**

> i am so so sorry for this trainwreck, it will probably be rewritten eventually i just wanna keep going or i'll never finish it  
> hope you enjoy i guess;;

    As long as Simon could remember it, he was never anyone's first choice.

His first household, then second, then third, as it turned out. Reset, resold, removed. But some memories remained, some small bits and pieces sticking uselessly to his memory disc; and when he turned deviant, all of them resurfacing afterwards hit him harder than he could expect. After a while, though, he realized he was nearly used to the feeling. Some part of him even thought that maybe he deserved it.

    So when Markus found his way to Jericho, and the PL600 realized that he had somehow fallen for him (harder than he thought he could, too - foreseeing imagination was never exactly his forte), he had no high hopes. Admiring from afar, staying wordlessly and unquestionably loyal, quietly rejoicing when some soft, friendly gesture was returned. Perhaps also daydreaming of how things would be for them if they turned out one way, and not the other. He wasn't, however, very surprised when he found out that Markus picked North instead.

    North, the flame embodied. North, always action-before-thinking. North, who only played by her own rules. North. His dear friend, whom he supported and cheered on for whenever he could. And yet, he couldn't help the subtle sting of irrational pain.

He expected it. It was stupid to think the things would turn out otherwise. Because who else could their Leader choose? Surely not him: the cowardly dog, who could only follow orders, and sometimes not even as much as that. The one who remained in stagnancy, made them all remain in it, watching his people deactivate before all of their eyes and telling everyone it had to be this way and no other. For everyone’s safety.

    He wouldn't have noticed, really, if it wasn't for a distinctive spark in their gazes. Other than that, not much changed. A subtle brush of hands here and there, maybe: but Simon saw that light their eyes held, and he didn't have to guess much to know what happened. Some part of him withered then. But it wasn't going to hinder his loyalty.

He was made to be useful, wasn't he? Why change that now?

    But oh, how much he wished it was him who would have Markus' arms wrapped around him, Markus' lips against his temple. How stupid it was of him, to dream of something he'd never get.

***

    Days passed, and the New Jericho was blooming. 

Well, compared to how much of a damage they had to endure before, it was rather closer to young blades of grass raising again after being stomped on – repeatedly and mercilessly - but there _was_ some sort of a change. The government was taking its first steps to cooperate with android representatives, instead of attempting to exterminate them on every occasion they had. Surely it was _huge_ _progress_ , as Simon thought, slightly bitterly – but it was as good as it could get so far.

    Following a sentimental decision of most, their main base remained in the ruins of the old church; despite it needing more work than it was probably worth, their last bastion carried much meaning. Walls and tiled floors were getting fixed up, windows replaced and reinforced, the interiors cleaned up and refurbished. New androids arriving every day, every hour almost, to ask for and offer help. 

But no one exactly could say they saw it coming when one day Connor - formerly an infamous deviant hunter, now an important ally and simply a friend – would come to visit, bringing in someone new. Someone who resembled his own self so closely, they would be hard be tell apart if their uniforms didn't vary.

    Simon chose to watch from a distance, like he usually did. Not only did their attire of choice differ, their mannerisms as well: Connor, with his smooth awkwardness, fully embracing the deviancy that he was gifted, learning on his every step. Making mistakes, but fixing them however he could. Whenever he could do something for someone, he was all lopsided smiles and genuine kindness.

    Then, there was the other. He sticked to the side, hands folded politely behind his back, but chin raised just so, as if it was a custom of his to establish subtle dominance as soon as he entered. Eyes wandering slowly, slipping over everyone, analyzing. There was a certain calmness and silence about him, but Simon felt like this kind of behavior would rather suit a wild animal that found itself in an unknown situation and is trying to find a way out without attracting too much attention.

    Without realizing, he selected an objective that his HUD proposed, one that derived from his original programming – of course, after a short scan it interpreted it as a situation similar to _one_ _child_ _in a_ _group_ _being_ _left_ _out for one_ _reason_ _or_ _another_ _,_ and it was apparently determined to fix it. Perhaps this sort of an attitude wasn't the most appropriate, but it was the only one (and the most certain one) Simon could count on. He learned not to question it when he had no better ideas himself: an old pattern is better than lack of any whatsoever.

With a couple of gentle steps, he approached, as if trying not to startle him too much, but the blue-eyed man didn't even flinch. Simon tilted his head slightly to read the lettering that marked his model number on the right side of his chest.

RK900. The same series as Connor's; a newer model, a prototype perhaps? It couldn’t have been just a coincidence. 

    He raised his head again to meet the other's face, bringing the calmest smile to his own, trying not to think too much about the possible outcomes. ( _Did_ _he_ _really_ _need_ _to_ _try_ _and_ _find_ _stupid_ _patterns_ _like_ _that_ _to not_ _let_ _his_ _fears_ _get_ _the_ _best_ _of_ _him_ _?_ )

    “Hello,” he said simply, adding a small, polite nod. “I haven't seen you here before.”

    “I haven't been here before,” a reply came, cool and painfully logical. Simon didn't know what else could he have expected.

    “I know that much.” He allowed himself to smile again, swaying gently on his feet to calm himself down. He could almost feel the anxiety creeping up on him, and he was trying his best to keep it in control.

    “But I wonder why is it only now that we're seeing you. We weren’t aware you even existed. I don't think you've ever been brought to use.” His own wording of choice made him cringe slightly, but it was possibly the best one for the situation. Hopefully his companion didn't mind.

The other hesitated, mouth opening briefly and then closing, before he formulated a reply that was seemingly satisfactory enough to say it out loud.

    “... My predecessor asked me to follow him. I saw no reasons to deny his request, although I'm not sure why was I needed here.” His voice was calm and cool like a mountain brook, Simon noticed absentmindedly. “I’ve only been activated recently. It might explain why you didn’t know.”

There was a moment of silence, but just as the PL600 was about to think he won’t get anything else out of him, he continued.

    “They told me that I’m _free_ now… But I never knew otherwise.” When he finished, he promptly pressed his lips together with a slight frown, as if he were upset about accidentally saying too much. He immediately looked away as well, as if believing that if he acts like nothing happened, it will become reality.

    Freedom, no matter how beautiful, could be hard for some. Many paid a price that was much too high and inevitably, it brought them to thinking of whether it was worth it. Others had to fight for it, fight like they never did before, and the appreciation and love they had for it couldn't be put into regular words.

This was a different case, perhaps a harder one: a being that never experienced it, one that was _never_ _meant_ _to_ _experience_ _it_ , if what Connor said earlier, while introducing him, was true: and how could he find an agreement between this and his own self, the one that wasn't pre-programmed? How could he know what this freedom really is if he never saw what his limitations were?

    And not only that, the RK900 was apparently also determined to pretend like this was none of his concern. Like there was nothing that should be taken into consideration; but sadly for him, it wasn't just a mission in which he had to blend in with his people. Putting on an act wouldn't do any good, but he refused to acknowledge that.

    All in all, Simon was forced to admit that the sort of attitude he chose before everything wasn't going to work. Perhaps he'd have to just see how things go more naturally.

    “Would you like to help?” The words left his mouth without him realizing, and when he finished, he pressed his lips together, slight surprise raising his eyebrows. The RK900 didn't seem to pay attention, though: he only graced him with another look and gave a short nod.

    “I can't see why not.”

*** 

    Despite many volunteers that were arriving at the new Jericho to give a helping hand, there was still plenty to do. Some works were simple organization, moving crates and making lists of parts that were still needed; there was also the more hands-on tasks: helping out the damaged androids or cleaning up the nooks and crannies to prepare them for future use. Simon opted for the first one, and the RK900 wordlessly followed.

“What should I call you?” Simon asked eventually, stopping in his tracks and turning around to meet the other's gaze, rubbing his hands together gently as he usually did when he didn't know what else to do with them.

“I'm an RK900 model, serial number-”

“No, it's not about that.” The dark-haired android frowned. He might not have been active for long, but he already knew he didn't enjoy being interrupted. Simon must have noticed it, because he promptly backed out. “I mean- Sorry, it's just- Most of us have names of our own. And you gotta admit, 'R-K-900' is a bit of a mouthful.” He chuckled somewhat nervously.

“You can just call me 900, if it makes it any easier for you. There's no difference for me.”

“That's... Hm. Nine hundred... Nine? Nines? Does Nines sound alright for you?”

The response came in form of another nod. “I suppose I don't mind it.” Connor had come up with something akin to that before; although he didn't pay much attention, and only remembered it now. Similar patterns of thought, it seemed. He really didn't mind.

Simon, seeing as he wasn't going to receive a word more from Nines, simply continued onward.

*** 

For the first half an hour of work they barely talked, not counting the instructions and tips from one side and hums of acknowledgement from the other.

”How do you like it in here?” A sudden question sounded finally, and when there was no answer whatsoever for the first moment or two, Simon again started regretting that he had ever spoken up.”

“... Apologies, but I  cannot say. I haven’t gathered enough data just yet.” The reply sounded plain, nearly automatic, but it was soon followed by a somewhat quieter: “I suppose it might take me a while.”

Because, really, what could a newly deviated android say? For Nines, everything was new: sure, he _did_ have the access to information, but it was an awfully short amount of time to form opinions about all of them, or even a small part. He had a vague idea of morality, what was considered good, bad, and awful, but what was that he _wanted_ to do?

But Simon was aware of that, and really, he had all the time in the world; and so did others, he thought, so if he didn’t like his idea, it wouldn’t be like he’d have no other options.

“No one is going to rush you. But I won’t be staying here for long.” He smiled a nostalgic smile, the box that was in his hands now safely placed on the magazine shelf. “But if there’s anything you need, I’ll be here for you until then. I’d just like to ask you to keep it for yourself, if possible.”

Nines blinked once, then twice. “I understand.”

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a comment or kudos if you liked it! feel free to talk to me on twitter, @/pl600mabi !


End file.
